David Cameron won’t save the Union by descending into the gutter

Decades of Labour’s dog-whistle politics have only played into Alex Salmond’s hands

In the Eighties and Nineties, Labour fought a vicious battle for supremacy against the nationalists in Scotland, the consequences of which we saw a fortnight ago when a British prime minister put the United Kingdom on the chopping block. In 2014 – or perhaps sooner – Scotland will decide whether to stay or go, on the basis of a debate that could too easily descend into the scaremongering and dog whistle politics that have marked the discussion of its future for 30 years.
In the Eighties, to prevent the SNP from gaining a foothold in its industrial heartlands, the party of the workers adopted a form of soft nationalism that encouraged a loathing of Margaret Thatcher and the belief that her policies were an English-inspired conspiracy to do down Scotland. Desperate to escape a nationalist flanking movement, Labour indulged in the politics of grievance that have blighted Scotland’s political discourse ever since.

The word “Tory” became a contemptuous synonym for “English”; when John Smith, Gordon Brown, Donald Dewar or Robin Cook said “Tory government”, Scotland heard “English occupiers”. That willingness to demonise in the political interest created the unstoppable momentum that brought us first devolution, then Alex Salmond’s electoral triumph last year, which left him commanding the political landscape in Edinburgh, and now the first vote in 300 years on the future of the Union.

Of course, Labour’s strategy had another, more insidious consequence. By neglecting its Unionist traditions in favour of a tartan tinge, the party encouraged the process of delegitimisation that has excluded English politicians from any consideration of Scotland’s future. The SNP’s cod indignation when David Cameron presumed to raise the matter was predictable. But the trend was well under way when Labour, in power, allowed the subject of Scotland to become an issue reserved for Scots by Scots, with Gordon Brown as the ultimate arbiter of whose views could be heard in his fiefdom.
Tony Blair discovered this to his cost. Uneasy about being left with the “unfinished business” he had inherited from John Smith in 1994, he ordered his party to put the scheme to a referendum, and for good measure ruled that Labour would make no use of the tax-raising powers proposed for the new Holyrood parliament. In Scotland, the skies fell in; Mr Blair was accused of engineering an English betrayal, even though he went on and delivered the devolution settlement in government.

(The exclusion of the English can be seen elsewhere. There are few Englishman operating in Scottish politics or holding Scottish seats, for example. In contrast, there are more Scots sitting for London seats in the Labour interest alone than there are Conservative MPs in Scotland. Labour, being a great internationalist party, has opened its southern ranks to all manner of talented – and not so talented – Scots. North of Hadrian’s Wall, however, politics is ruled by an implied nationality test.)

Fresh from his Hugo Young lecture yesterday, in which he sketched out his vision of an independent and distinctly socialist Scotland, Mr Salmond will today mark Burns Night by publishing proposals for how and when the referendum should be conducted. The Prime Minister will have to respond, but how? To what extent should he seek to insert himself into a discussion in which he is not welcome? How does he find a purchase in Scotland, something that has defied recent Tory prime ministers?

Mrs Thatcher, who presided over a catastrophic loss of Tory support there, professed indifference. She could not fathom how the nation that gave the world Adam Smith and forged the Empire transformed itself into a sclerotic, unreformed bastion of state dependency (even though statistics showed that under her administration productivity and inward investment climbed and living standards in Scotland rose by 30 per cent). Famously, she refused to “wear tartan camouflage”, even as she acknowledged that the Conservatives looked like an English party.

John Major, on the other hand, cared deeply about Scotland. It was his call to his countrymen at Wembley to “wake up before it is too late, the Union is in danger” which electrified the 1992 general election and contributed to his victory. He pleaded tirelessly in Scotland for the Union, and deployed a “bringing the Union alive” programme of gestures – such as the return of the Stone of Destiny – that with hindsight seem well intentioned but naive when set against the low cunning of the SNP and the desperation of Labour. His argument was that the Conservative Party was acting in the national interest rather than its own. How much so was evidenced in 1997, when the Tories lost all their seats in Scotland and took just 17 per cent of the vote.

The situation has, if anything, got worse since then. Mr Cameron has only one MP north of the border and his party in Edinburgh is a shattered remnant of a machine that in 1955 won a majority both of seats and of the popular vote. His Scottish ancestry hardly helps, either. His forebears went from castles in Scotland to build the Empire in the Far East. Until it became a political liability, he enjoyed stalking and shooting from his mother-in-law’s house on Jura, and the ritual of a swim in the sea every night before dinner, regardless of the weather. Given that somewhat aristocratic baggage, he must find a credible Tory tone that will secure him a hearing in the coming debate with a nation that has trained itself to block out Conservative voices, whether homegrown or from London.

The solution surely must lie in discretion, courtesy and a disciplined avoidance of any language that amounts to questioning Scotland’s capacity for self-government, its ability to prosper, or its willingness to reason. That Scotland could be a successful, moderately well-off independent nation is not in doubt and should not be misrepresented. Whatever the questions that must be asked about the details of partition, be it the allocation of national debt, the division of defence arrangements, or the feasibility of currency union, Mr Cameron must avoid being lured into any comment that will allow him to be portrayed as an evidently English prime minister.

His reticence is required not because it will deprive Mr Salmond of something to complain about, but because he must reserve himself for the consequences of the vote. Whatever the outcome of the referendum, there will have to be a renegotiation of the terms between Scotland and the rest of the Union. Whether Scotland chooses independence or opts to remain, there must follow a detailed rebalancing of the political and financial relationship. Be it the “devo-max” Mr Salmond speaks of, or some other arrangement, Mr Cameron must be in a position to negotiate as a respected equal after Scotland has decided.

Many on his side will urge him to stick it to Scotland, to deploy the same kind of tawdry politics Labour made the mistake of using. His successful use of brutal tactics in last year’s AV campaign might encourage him to play hardball this time, too. Yesterday’s revelation that the SNP tried to forge academic evidence to back its argument for a two-question referendum reminds us that he is up against a parcel of rogues.

Mr Cameron should resist the temptation and stick to language that is gentle and dispassionate, in between lengthy periods of silence. When the time comes to hammer out a final settlement with Scotland, he will want the conversation to be a civil one, untainted by bitterness and recrimination. Let no one say that this Conservative Prime Minister and his campaign gave the Scots yet another reason to feel resentful.